


A Happy Accident

by And_The_Rest



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Artificial Insemination, M/M, Mech Preg, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-11 10:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10462263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/And_The_Rest/pseuds/And_The_Rest
Summary: Thanks to a damaged medical device, Optimus finds himself sparked.  His suddenly active cyber-hormones leave him feeling extremely restless. (Restless = horny as a turbo-fox in heat.)  Fortunately, Ratchet is there in his time of need.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that has been sitting on my computer for a while. It is intended as a one-shot.
> 
> No beta. Any mistakes are all my own.
> 
> And if it needs to be said, I do not own the any of the characters, etc. Just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

In the aftermath of a minor Earthquake in Arizona, a safety inspection team had been checking an old mine to make sure it was structurally sound. They never expected that the quake would reveal a massive alien ship deep within the mine. One that was etched with strange markings.

Markings that were well known to officials very high in the US Government.

After persuading the inspection team that not mentioning the ship to anyone would be a very good idea, a number of scientists were sent in. It did not take long to determine that the energy readings within the wreck were extremely dangerous. It was decided to immediately contacted Agent Fowler and bring in the Autobots.

A quick, but thorough scan by Ratchet revealed the cause. There was energon contamination in parts of the ship. Perfectly safe for the Cybertronians, but it would not be healthy for humans, even with protective suits.

“There’s a real Autobot ship right here on Earth and we can't even go in!” grumbled Miko. Jack and Raf were also very disappointed when Ratchet broke the news that they could not visit the ship.

At least they did not pout.

Once on board the Autobots located the hold, which was filled to the brim with much needed medical supplies and energon rations. Even better, as was often the case for long flights, the ship’s cargo had been packed in stasis boxes. Some had been broken open by the impact, which explained the energon contamination. However, over three hundred containers were undamaged.

Moving the supplies was simple since their leader happened to be a very large truck. Optimus, Arcee and Ratchet loaded the boxes into the Prime’s’ trailer. He would then haul it back through the ground bridge to their base where he would help Bulkhead and Bumblebee quickly unloaded the boxes.

Optimus would then return for another load while the young warriors set about moving the boxes to one of the many empty store rooms in the old missile silo that served as their base.

Also. since the impact of the crash had left the ship buried far enough underground that the Decepticons could not pick up the energy signature of the ground bridge. Meaning they could work undisturbed.

It looked like their luck had finally taken a turn for the better.

Once they had all of the intact supplies stored at their base, Ratchet, Arcee and Optimus had started to look over the rest of the ship’s equipment. Their hope was to salvage components that could be used to improve their base’s computers.

The medic and femme soon had a respectable pile of usable parts on the floor between them. Things were going well, until Arcee found a small cylindrical device beneath a half destroyed operating table.

“Hey, Ratchet, what is this?” she asked uneasily as it started to glow softly in her servo.

Ratchet turned to take a look and accidentally bumped the cylinder with his arm. The device flared to life between them, startling them both. Arcee yelped and tossed the suddenly hot, blindingly bright object into the air.

All this occurred just as Optimus entered the room.

Not sure what was happening, the Prime’s first instinct was to catch the strange object before it landed near his vulnerable team mates.

As soon as the cylinder touched his servo, Optimus cried out as a strong pulse of energy surged through his chassis.

“Optimus!” gasped Ratchet and Arcee in unison as their leader stiffened and fell to the deck on his face plate with a resounding crash.

 

It was almost four hours later that a groggy Optimus Prime on-lined his optics. Having spent a lot of time there recently, he immediately recognized the dingy gray ceiling of the medbay. He was not surprised to find his CMO waiting anxiously at his berth side. “What happened, Ratchet? I feel like Megatron kicked me in the chest plate. Several times.”

“I am glad you are finally back among the functional,” said the medic. Although, the taller Autobot could not help but notice that his friend sounded a bit hesitant.

“Is there something wrong, Old Friend?” he asked.

“Do you remember what happened?”

He had to think for a moment. His processor was still a bit sluggish. “I caught a small device and was hit with a powerful shock,” said Optimus as he flexed his fingers. “My servo still tingles.”

Ratchet nodded with a slight sigh. “The devise was a reproductive aid. It is called a Spark Stick. When a mech or femme wanted a sparkling but was not bonded. The device can be used to simulate the energy of a spark merge. That one was damaged, which is why it knocked you out. If it is were functioning normal the charge would be administered in a controlled manner. The procedure should not have been painful at all.”

“Am I sparked?” Prime’s deep baritone was calm as always as his servo touched his abdominals.

“Arcee and I unwittingly charged the device. Actually, it was overcharged. You are sparked with twins,” said Ratchet.

“This… complicates things,” Optimus noted calmly.

“That is an understatement,” confirmed the medic dejectedly. “Although I already know the answer, under the circumstances I must ask. Do you wish to terminate?”

“They were not planned,” said Optimus. “But Primus has seen fit to bestow these two on me. I will give them a chance to fulfill whatever destiny he has for them.”

 

Over the next few weeks Optimus seemed unaffected by his condition. The Prime carried out his duties as always, just needing a little more energon than was normal.

Not that he had much to do. There was little Decepticon activity. Although the big mech did have to take out a couple of vehicons that were menacing Jack and Arcee while they were on patrol.

What his team did not know was that for the last few night cycles Optimus found himself unable to recharge. He stalked the base, pacing like a caged turbo-tiger.

Ratchet was surprised when he was wakened by the sound of movement in the corridor. Arcee was on duty in the main monitoring room, while everyone else was supposed to be in recharge. He quickly discovered his restless Prime, helm down and completely oblivious to his presence. “Keep this up and you will wear a trench in the floor.”

“Ratchet?” Optimus turned at the sound. “Forgive me, Old Friend,” Prime said with uncharacteristic nervousness. “I did not mean to disturb your recharge. There is no reason to concern yourself.”

“You are sparked and have obviously not been recharging properly. That makes your nocturnal pacing my concern.”

“It is nothing, really.” Optimus sighed. His tone said that it was definitely not nothing.

“I am your CMO as well as your friend. Being sparked can have many complications large and small. Maybe I can help?”

“This is embarrassing." The taller Autobot looked away. “I have always been able to control my emotions, my… urges…”

“Ah,” Ratchet smiled as the light dawned. “Carrying has been known to cause intense arousal for extended periods of time,” confirmed Ratchet. “It is completely natural.”

“Is there something you could give me to suppress it?” asked Optimus.

Ratchet shook his helm. “Anything that would suppress those desires would harm the sparklings.”

“I have no wish to cause them harm, but are you sure there is nothing you can do? It is driving me to distraction,” said the taller mech, with just a little annoyance. “I have tried everything: long drives, freezing cold washes. I have even tried to,” he actually blushed, “take care of the matter myself. Nothing helps.”

“There is no cause for embarrassment,” assured the medic. “You just need someone to interface with you.”

“I cannot just demand someone service me!” Prime gasped in horror.

“I would not phrase it like that, Optimus. True, you are our Prime. But you are also a very desirable mech,” said Ratchet. “Anyone here would be happy to assist you.”

“But Arcee, Bulkhead and Bumblebee are all so young,” he countered. “I know that technically even Bee is an adult, but I would feel like I was robbing the creche.”

“Well,” Ratchet looked up at his commander slyly. “I have been out of the creche for a rather long time.”

“I… It is just,” Optimus looked at him sadly. “I have not been with anyone since Elita.”

“You have been alone for much too long. Please, Optimus, let me help you.” The medic held out his hand invitingly. His intense EM field projected only gentleness, love and an undercurrent of desire.

Although he would never have admitted it, Optimus had always been attracted to Ratchet. Not only was he someone that Optimus loved as a friend, he was a very alluring mech.

His face plate was quite handsome and if Optimus were honest with himself, he was intrigued by his medic. He was a solidly built bot with broad shoulders and limbs that were thick and strong. Prime’s own body, although powerful, was long and slender. He knew he had a bit of a roll to his slim hips. More than a few mechs and femmes had told him that just watching him walk from behind could make their spikes ache.

Did Ratchet feel the same? He hoped so. Optimus was so aroused he was sure that lubricant would gush out when he opened his interface panel.

Once the door to the Autobot leader’s quarters closed Ratchet turned. With a smile he pulled the larger mech’s helm down into a kiss. Optimus returned it eagerly as the medic’s servos explored his chassis and that very talented glossa claimed his intake. Ratchet used his knowledge of anatomy to play sweet havoc with his friend’s transformation seams.

The bigger mech gasped at the sensation. It had been much too long since anyone touched Optimus like this, with such gentleness and care.

He clutched at Ratchet as those cleaver fingers explored his frame. They plucked sensitive wires and Prime found himself moaning.

“I want to hear that sound again,” whispered Ratchet seductively. He guided the taller mech, backing him towards the waiting berth. Optimus gave a startled yelp as he fell across it. He ended up on his back, leg struts in the air. Ratchet used the opportunity to spread them wide. The medic immediately leaned in to tease his Prime’s valve panel with his glossa.

It slid open after a few sensual licks. And it turned out that Optimus was right. Lubricant gushed out as the cover was retracted.

Ratchet licked his dermas hungrily at the sight. “For me?” He bent down to greedily lap at the translucent blue fluids. Seeing his leader so aroused was as big a turn on to him as tasting the sweet offering. Prime arched and moaned as that nearly prehensile glossa teased sensors deep within him.

“Primus!” No one had ever done that to him before!

Once the medic had thoroughly cleaned the area with his glossa, he set about making another mess by sliding his fingers into the pliant opening. Soon the lubricant began to seep out again. By the time he had worked in three fingers Prime sounded desperate. “Ratchet please, I need, I… please,” Optimus pleaded as he writhed under his friends tender ministrations.

“As a healer it is my duty to ease your suffering,” Ratchet said huskily as he straightened. His thick spike was out and already pressurized. Thanks to the height of the berth it was lined up perfectly with Prime’s valve. “Just relax,” said the medic, carefully guiding the tip into the dripping entrance.

Optimus tensed at the intrusion. It had been a very long time since his last interface and even then, it was he that had spiked Elita-One. She usually preferred it that way. And after Elita was lost in the Siege of Polyhex, his interest in interfacing fell by the wayside.

Even when he found himself attracted to Ratchet it had always seemed better to just suppress his own needs for the good of the Autobot cause. Besides, he never dreamed that his dear friend might return those feelings.

Ratchet’s soothing caresses to his thighs and torso and the slow, gentle penetration soon had his friend arching and moaning again. Before either mech realized it Ratchet was completely sheathed in the tight valve. “So good,” gasped Prime. “Ratchet….”

“I’m just getting started,” assured Ratchet as he began to thrust. At first he went slowly, being sure his lover had adjusted to his girth. When Optimus began to move with him he quickened his pace.

Optimus was so aroused that it did not take long before his long frame crackled with power and he overloaded hard.

Ratchet only just managed to hold back so that the tightly clenching valve did not force him to completion. He pulled out and crawled onto the berth. With a little coaxing he got Optimus to move so that he was lengthwise on the berth and then he lay over Prime. His cooling fans were at maximum as he leisurely traced patterns over the faux glass of his lover’s chest plates.

One servo slid down and caressed the Prime’s spike panel longingly. Ratchet was disappointed that it would remain closed. He had, of course, seen it when performing routine maintenance exams on his friend. It was extremely impressive, even when he was not aroused.

Sadly, when a mech or femme became sparked, their spike protocols went dormant. While carrying they simply did not have spare energon to manufacture transfluids that would be expelled in overload.

Still, all that meant was for the time being, Ratchet would be doing all the spiking. He would not complain about that. Although, he fervently hoped he could persuade Optimus to continue sharing a berth once the little ones emerged so he could explore that sweet spike. Taste it. Feel it pulse in his servos or deep inside him.

Speaking of spikes, since he had not allowed himself to climax his was still very hard and not at all pleased about being left out in the cold. Ratchet nudged his Prime’s thighs apart and gently began to tease his lover’s the slick opening with the flared head.

Optimus arched his back struts with pleasure as the spike slowly filled him again. Still Optimus being Optimus, he felt a little guilty. “You, do not have to… Ah! Shouldn’t have forced you to...”

“You are not forcing anything,” Ratchet purred. “Optimus, please, let me do this for you. It is my honor,” he thrust in. “And my great pleasure,” he withdrew again. “To serve my Prime,” he finished by pushing in to the hilt. Optimus writhed as he continued to plunged in deep. The Autobot leader soon cried out with a second powerful overload.

It took the taller Autobot several moments to reboot. He looked up at his friend, his lover and smiled just a little. “I think you melted my circuits,” said Optimus with a slight gasp as Ratchet’s still erect spike continued to gently stroke his pleasure sensors. “Don’t you ever tire?”

“Of you, Optimus? Never.”

Ratchet sat up without completely removing his spike. He had his Prime’s thighs over his own, he slowly began to move again.

Optimus gasped and rolled his hips, meeting his thrusts.

“More!” Prime cried out. Ratchet leaned forward and pounded into him. Optimus’ servos grabbed his aft and pulled him as deep as he could go. “Ratchet, please!” With a growl, the white and red mech lost all semblance of restraint and that was just what his lover wanted. “Yes! Harder! Ratchet!”

The big mech’s vocalizations turned to static as he almost convulsed in overload. And as that tight valve spiraled down on his spike, Ratchet finally allowed himself to climax with him.

 

They woke several hours later with Ratchet laying on top of Optimus, who was gently stroking his back. No words were needed as they disentangled themselves and went to the wash rack.

Ratchet had never been so happy. To make love to Optimus was a dream come true. And he felt a swell of pride in his spark that his CNA would be part of the two little lives growing within his Prime’s gestational chamber.

Cybertronian reproduction began with a spark merge. And, strictly speaking, that was the only contribution needed from another bot. However, by interfacing a carrier could gather genetic material to help the sparkling develop.

Most carriers, even if they were not bonded or in a serious relationship took at least one lover to give their creations an infusion of new CNA. While not essential, it did enhance their coding. Sparklings that had contributions from other mechs were generally stronger and healthier.

Ratchet took great pleasure in running the cleaning cloth over Optimus’ lanky frame as they stood under the hot solvent spray. For his part, the large mech all but purred from the gentle massage. But after a few minutes of indulgence the Prime sighed. “Ratchet, I feel as if I am taking advantage of you.”

“Optimus, if anyone is taking advantage it is me thanks to the carrier hormones.”

“But I want this. I always have,” admitted Optimus.

“I wanted this, wanted you, for a long time,” Ratchet assured. “No one is taking advantage of anyone. We are just two very good friends sharing pleasure.”

“Yes, we are,” Optimus leaned against him. Then he sighed. “Sadly, I need to go on shift now.”

“As do I,” conceded Ratchet. “Optimus, if you feel restless again, come to me.”

Optimus smiled. He let his servo linger on Ratchet’s faceplate for a moment, then turned towards the door. Duty called.

 

Later that evening.

Bumblebee and Raf were playing a video game. Arcee, Jack, Miko and Bulkhead sat behind the platform watching them and giving somewhat unhelpful advice.

Ratchet was using a blowtorch to weld the seam on a piece of equipment. It took a moment for the medic to realize that his Prime was standing behind him. He fidgeted as the ambulance turned to look up at him. “How may I help you, Optimus?” he asked, keeping his expression neutral.

“Are you busy, Ratchet?”

“As always I have a rather lengthy list of tasks waiting for me, why?”

The Prime’s optics lowered. He seemed uncharacteristically shy. “I… Um… Do you recall what we… uh… discussed earlier?”

A smile came to Ratchet’s face plate at the memory. If he lived another billion stellar cycles he would never forget last night. “Of course.”

“Could we… continue that discussion?” asked the Prime. Then in a hesitant whisper added, “Now?”

“My calendar is officially clear,” declared Ratchet as he took hold of his leader’s arm and all but dragged him back towards the bigger mech’s quarters.

Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee and their human friends stared after the pair. The two mechs looked at one another and shrugged. Bee beeped quizzically at his friend.

“Beats me,” replied Bulkhead. “Must be some kind of Prime thing.”

Arcee barely kept from face palming. ‘Primus, are they really that young?’

“Come on, everyone. We need to go out on patrol.” She could hear Prime’s engine rev and a muffled moan as she pushed the puzzled mechs towards the silo’s entrance, gathering the very confused Jack, Raf and Miko along the way. “A very long patrol.”


End file.
